


You Found Me

by Supernova95



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernova95/pseuds/Supernova95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tim Drake is set upon by a gang in the bad part of town he does not expect to be saved by a very much alive (though worse for wear) Jason Todd. </p><p>Or What if Jason was found by the Bats instead of Talia?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Little Things You Give Away

It wasn't often that Tim left the house and just walked. No, there was always something to do, a case to solve, some mission to be on or some training to attend.

He was never able to just wonder aimlessly.

But his dad had just had an episode at the hospital; he was stable but that didn't mean he was out of the woods yet. In saying that; there was nothing he could do, and he couldn't stay at the hospital because the nurses had to be there all the time for the next twenty-four hours at least to make sure.

He was just in the way, so he excused himself and took a walk.

Unfortunately that walk was though the 'bad' part of Gotham.

Tim hadn't even noticed, what with his night job, everywhere was the same to him now. And that was the biggest drawback of the job.

"Now now now boys, what do we have here?" they came out of nowhere, and had encircled him in less than a second "Uh uh, a pretty boy like you shouldn't be wondering round these streets" he popped the button of his pants "something could happen" Tim's eyes went as wide as golf balls,  _he wasn't Robin_ , he was just Tim Drake, nerdy beanstalk kid who wondered into the wrong part of town.

Crap.

Surrounded and backed against a wall was not how he wanted his afternoon to go.  _This was not meant to happe-_

"Hey, idiots"

The call came from behind his attacker, but the guy was so big that Tim couldn't see his savior.

That didn't matter as a few minutes later each of the gang members were on the floor, after an impressive display of martial arts.

"Tha- thank-you, I don't know…" his saviour's face looked extremely familiar, and those  _moves_  "JASON?!"

His- Jason's- eyes flicked up at the mention of his name, dull recognition shined in his eyes.

"Oh my God, Jason!" what should he do… no he knew what he needed to do, jason looked  _horrible_  all beaten up and brused, he was going back to the hospital, but now he was taking Jason with him.

-

"Nurse, please I need a Nurse"

"Yes young man"

"Please, this is Jason, he saved me… but he needs help" the woman nodded and called for a couple more nurses to get Jason to the emergancy room "Um, where can I wait? I have to make a phone call home… but I want to make sure he's okay" the nurse pointed to a small set of seeting closer to the emergence ward, Tim thanked her and rushed outside to call the Manor. "Bruce, yes it's me, Tim, you need to come to the hospital; there's something you need to see."

-

"Jason!" it had been a few hours, but Jason was awake, almost coherant, and able to take visitors

Jason's eyes narrowed in confusion before brightening when the realisation set it,

"Dad! Dad I'm sorry" Bruce wasted no time in rushing to his son's side,

"Jason, what do you have to be sorry for?"

"I… I don't remember much,"

"Don't worry, it'll come to you in time" Jason nodded and carried on

"But I know I did something wrong, I know I did something that you asked me not to and I know it really hurt"

Bruce smiled a genuine smile… one Tim had never quite been able to pull from his lips

"Yes you did, but I'm not angry, I'm just glad you back and safe with us."

Tim did his best not to listen to their conversation, it was like listening to their lives and he really didn't want to intrude; so he slowly starts to make his way to the door.

He was in a room filled with bats, like that was ever going to work.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Jason asked and Tim stuttered.

"I… I didn't want to intrude; I was going to go check on my dad"

"Nonsense Tim, come here and tell Jason a bit about yourself… I'm sure he'd be very interested to know" Jason looked at him with puppy dog eyes that Tim was sure he learnt from Dick.

"Okay, well I'm Tim Drake and I live in the manor opposite yours." As he told Jason a little bit about his life, Tim could see the look in Bruce's eyes as he looked at Jason, his  _son_  alive and well, and Tim might have been wrong on his prognosis that Batman needed a Robin.

Batman just needed a Jason.

 


	2. What I've Done (And What I Have Left To Do)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you to Babybirdblues for the beta

He expected his memory to come back in flashes, for him to see something and go, “Oh yeah…” just like in the movies.

It didn’t.

Sometimes it would be there, in in the back of his mind; he could feel it but it was just out of reach, like when you can’t remember a certain word and it’s on the tip of your tongue but it doesn’t make the jump to a comprehensive mixture of sounds.

Other times it would flow freely, he could remember everything about a certain event. Like the night when Bruce first found him; he could remember the colour of the graffitied curses on the walls of the alley, and the smell of the puke mixed with semen that just seemed to be extra strong in the alley ways in that part of town.

Most of the time it was a mixture of the two, some things he would remember vividly, like the uniform, the honour and responsibility, but then there were always the little bits of important information that were just out of reach. Things that he could taste, but couldn’t touch and just couldn’t remember.

Which was why Jason was quite content in making new memories at the moment.

“Hey stranger, long time no see,” Jason said, trying to sit up as Tim came into the room. The boy was a couple of years younger than him, with black hair, blue eyes, and as skinny as fuck. Making a mental note to convince Alfred to feed the kid some more Jason grinned at him, getting a sheepish grin in return.  Tim could out blush a bunch of ten year olds in a Sex Ed class. It was cute.

Tim’s soft laugh vibrated through the room.  “Jason, it’s only been twelve hours.”

“Exactly!  Half a day - far too long.  Now come closer so I can pester you about more details from my life,” Jason replied. In reality they had known each other for about 18 days, but Tim was always at the hospital, his dad was still in intensive care, so they had had a lot of time to get to know each other in far, far more detail.

So when he saw Tim reach into his rucksack he knew he was being treated to something new.

“I bought my Jason-Robin photo album; you could look at them if you want?” Tim said, tentatively holding out the impeccably kept, black photo album. Jason knew his eyes blew wide from the look of surprise on Tim’s face.

“Ohhh, presents, gi’me gi’me” Jason said, beckoning Tim forward to sit on the bed with him.

It was a nice morning spent going through the album, some pictures would spark faint memories, whilst others he wouldn’t remember at all, though he couldn’t help but worry about how Tim managed to get all those shots; Batman and Robin didn’t patrol the nice neighbourhoods in Gotham, and the backstreets are no place for a Bristol kid.

Tim stopped at a picture of Jason grinning like nobody’s business, gracefully flipping off his grapple line just like Dick had shown him.

“Hey, Tim? What’s up?” Jason asked, and Tim’s head shot up in surprise.

“Oh, sorry, I was just off in my own little world, it’s just you were so happy” Tim said almost dreamily, he was far away, probably back on the roof top watching Batman and Robin fly through the sky.

“I’m sorry?  _Were?_  I’m very happy thank-you very much” he replied indignantly, though with enough of a playful tone that Tim wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

Tim returned a weak smile “I was just thinking about how I could never be as good a Robin as you.”

“Bullshit,” Jason retorted immediately, wincing as he leant forward in the hospital bed, smiling apologetically for the look of concern Tim gave him, but waving it off as nothing. “From what dad and Alfred have told me you’re a great Robin.”

“R-really?” Tim said, stuttering slightly at the praise. Jason made another note to ask Bruce about Tim’s life at home, for some reason it just didn’t feel right to ask Tim about it.

“Yeah, Bruce says you’re becoming quite the fighter, and your detective skills are far beyond what he currently expects of someone with even Dick’s level of training, and don’t get me started on Alfred raving about what a great chess player you are.”

Tim started blushing in earnest, his hands moving to fiddle with the hem of his shirt; “They really think that?”

“Oh yeah, they’re just not that great at showing it. Well, you know Bruce, he’s the most emotionally constipated man you’ll ever meet,” Jason had to pause as Tim snorted quickly moving his hand to his mouth to try to smother the silent giggles suddenly trying to make their escape.  He took it was a sign that he was saying all the right things. “Talking to him about feelings is like talking to a brick wall from behind a lead barrier ten foot thick. You just get nowhere.” He gave Tim a quick small smile. He had been there, navigating the enigma that was Bruce Wayne, and every time you think you have him pinned he just throws a curveball that hits you straight in the face. So he knew the exact feeling that Tim was expressing on his face; the feeling of uncertainty and the worry that you’re just not good enough. It’s all there pooling in your gut as you practice so hard (too hard) on the routines he gives you just so he gives you a half smile and a short grunt of ‘good work’.

Jason reached over, ignoring the pain that wrecked through his body and took Tim’s hand, smiling brightly. “But give it time and you’ll see his cracks. And well Alfred… he just doesn’t think it’s his place ya’know? But he certainly has had much to say about you when asked.”

This time the smile Tim returned was cheerful and confident. Just like Robin.

“So enough talking about our night job in a public hospital… I want to know more about you.” Jason said, laughing a little at Tim’s ‘oops I forgot about that minor detail face’.

“Urr, what do you want to know? I’m not really that interesting.” Tim replied shrugging.

“Oh contraire, I think you’re very interesting, but start at the beginning; I mean, we have time.”

Tim smiled and sat back a little on the bed, his mouth scrunching to one side as he thought of where to begin.

“Well, I’m born and raised in Gotham. My family used to own a penthouse apartment downtown but we moved to Bristol a couple of years ago. Umm, my parents travelled a lot when I was a kid, I spent most of my time in boarding schools. That was until there was a problem with one of my teachers, he was sacked and my mom had me home schooled, but now I go state. I’m an only child, err, I have a house keeper called Mrs Mac who make the most killer potato salad you will ever taste in your entire existence… what do you want to know?”

Jason thought for a moment, well he pretended to think for a moment, more like he paused for appearances sake. “How’d you become part of the mission?”

Tim laughed, “That’s probably longer than my life story,” he said smiling, but took a deep breath anyway.

“Well it all started with a trip to the circus. I was three and it was getting close to my birthday. My parents were going to be away on business for the whole of July and so they gave me an extra big birthday surprise too make up for it. That was going to the circus. Haly’s Circus.”

Tim knew Jason would get the gist. “I met Dick there, before the show, and he was just so nice, and bright and bubbly, and he made me the promise that he was going to perform his unique quadruple somersault, just for me during the act. Well it seems so stupid now, he probably told that to every kid he met before the show, but, back then, I believed him. And he did it, and it was so cool, and I knew that I wanted to be like him when I grew up…”

“And then his parents fell, and it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and I guess it, and Dick, just stuck with me. Because the next think I know, I’m following him in the newspaper, from the ‘accident’ to his adoption to Zucco being put on trial.”

“And then Robin appeared and then someone had managed to capture some footage of the Dynamic Duo… and I was glued to the television, because Robin did a quadruple somersault. And only three people in the world can… and only one is a kid living in Gotham.”

Jason had to interrupt him.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you  _figured out_  the ‘God damned Batman’s identity? Like, for real? That’s so cool.”

“Heh,” Tim blushed and shrugged it off, “It wasn’t that difficult when you knew what I knew. Any way so that’s when I started going out and taking photos-”

“Which was really stupid dangerous, you could have been hurt, killed, kidnapped-”

“But I wasn’t, was I?”

Jason took a deep breath, Tim had been so lucky, there were far too many people who would have killed for a boy like Tim; Jason had seen the streets of Gotham after dark and it wasn’t pretty.  “No you weren’t,”  _but that doesn’t mean you should have in the first place._

“I spent a few months plotting patrol routes and setting myself up to get some pretty nice shots; but then Robin disappeared, and Dick Grayson left Gotham, and Nightwing appeared in New York, and Bruce Wayne adopted you… and then you became Robin… and then you died.” Tim was whispering, tears creeping down his cheeks, as the morning sunshine filtered through the hospital binds. It made Tim glow, his hair becoming a few shades lighter, his eyes, a deep blue, glistening as the light reflected off his watery eyes.

It made Jason’s heart flutter.

“You died, and Batman became reckless, as though he had a death wish. He either jumped into fights he could not win completely unprepared, or beat even common thugs to a pulp, putting them in the hospital for months.”

“All because Superman stopped him from killing the Joker.”

Bruce hadn’t told him this, in fact, apart from assuring him that everything was his fault, not Jason’s, Bruce hadn’t said much about the time since his death. He had seemed overly reluctant, and just so guilty looking that Jason didn’t want to push the subject. He might push it now.

It was, though, quite satisfying to know that Bruce would sacrifice his mission for  _him_ , Jason Todd: the kid he found stealing the tyres of his car. Any thoughts that Bruce just thought of him as ‘another Robin’ flew out the window and Jason smiled, with a choked laugh of happiness that Jason hadn’t felt since well before his death, since things between him and Bruce hadn’t gotten all tense.

“That was when I realised Batman needed a Robin” Tim’s words shocked him out of his thoughts,

“What?” Jason replied, looking rather confused at Tim’s statement.

“Batman needs a Robin. At the time I just thought that Bruce needed a partner, that he needed someone he loved by his side; but now I realised that it’s a whole lot more, that Robin is a whole lot more. Robin isn’t just a partner, or a son, Robin is the symbol of what Bruce is fighting for. Robin is the reminder that stops him from falling past the event horizon of a black hole, or crossing the line. Robin is the reminder that he doesn’t want another child to feel like he did that night in Park Row. Robin is his hope.” Tim looked so focused, and so lost in thought at the same time that Jason didn’t know what to do.

“How did you become Robin?” He opted for, and to his surprise Tim blushed.

“Well, upon my realisation, I went to Dick at Haley’s Circus and tried to convince him that he should return to being Robin.”

Tim started and Jason winced, “I bet that went down well…”

“Yeah, swimmingly. He said he would come back to Gotham as Nightwing, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t believe Bruce was as bad as he was. Anyway once that failed, I went to the manor to talk to Bruce, to try to convince him to find another Robin… and well he wasn’t there… but Dick went to find him, and then they were both captured by Two-Face. Alfred gave me your Robin uniform, and we saved them, but Bruce was so angry, I tried to tell him that he needed a Robin; that Robin had become a symbol to the people of Gotham, just like Batman was. Alfred was the one who finally convinced him, and then Bruce said he’d trial  _me_.”

“And I- you have to believe me Jason- I never wanted to be Robin; I’m just some rich kid from one of Gotham’s more wealthy families… I didn’t know what the real Gotham was like, and I think Bruce was expecting me to give up or to fail one of his tests; but I didn’t, because I…  I owed it to you to keep Robin on the streets.” Tim looked at Jason with sad pleading eyes that just screamed; ‘I’m sorry please don’t be mad at me’.  It made Jason’s heart clench in ways that made him want to punch whoever put Tim in the position that he learned to make such a face.

Then, suddenly, Tim turned to the door to Jason’s hospital room, “But now Jason’s back he can be Robin again, I was only meant to be a fill in - ‘til you found someone better.”  There was a significant amount of sorrow in his voice, mixed with a distinct yearning; Tim didn’t want to give up Robin.

And Jason wasn’t about to make him.

Every bird has to fly the nest one day, and Jason was out growing the role anyway; it didn’t carry as much freedom as he needed now, Bruce expected Robin to follow orders down to the letter and- Jason just couldn’t do that anymore. But Tim just looked so scared that Robin would be taken away, but resigned to the fact that the role would.

It was a confusing sight to bear witness to, because Jason had not thought of doing that to Tim, and from the look on Bruce’s face as he finally entered the room, he didn’t either.

“Finally decided to stop spying on us from the hallway old man?” Jason said with a smile as Bruce pulled up a chair next to the bed.

“Now, please knock some sense into Babybird.”  The nickname just fit and a smile graced Jason’s lips; Tim would probably hate him, like he hated Dick for ‘Little Wing’ - gah it made him sound like a dinosaur out of The Land Before Time.  “Assure him that you’re not going to take Robin away from him.”

Bruce looked a little helpless. “I’m not going to take Robin away from you.”

Jason sighed, rolling his eyes. “Like that’s going to convince him old man. Tim,” he desperately tried to catch Tim’s eyes, “Tim, Bruce and I have already talked about this. He said it was unfair to ask you to stop being Robin, and he didn’t want you to stop. And I agreed.”

“What?” Tim gasped, eyes widening as if Jason was crazy. “But you’re Robin.”

Jason laughed, “I was Robin, now you’re Robin.”  The smile he put on was an ‘I don’t quite think you’re making any sense’ smile; as though Tim had just suggested that cabbages were imported from Mars.

“But what about you?” Tim asked.  Even though his voice was even quieter than their mission talk was already, it carried across the bed as though Tim was right next to him.

“Well I was thinking Bluejay, or something of that ilk you kno-” Jason was interrupted by a sudden alarm.  Doctors and nurses began to run by shouting, trailing heavy equipment - and trying to pass information as they ran by each other.

It was chaos, but one sentence rang through their ears loud and clear:

_“Code Blue, Floor 4, room 416.”_

Tim’s smile dropped to an ice cold haze, his eyes wide and his face froze in fear.

“Dad!”


	3. By Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for character death.

 

"Dad!" Tim shouted. He made a break for the door only to barrel into a hard chest, strong arms wrapping around him.

"There's nothing you can do Tim." Bruce muttered into his hair as he hugged Tim tight.

Feeling Tim's desperate need to follow the doctors and nurses shouting orders at each other; Bruce picked him up and carried him back to Jason't bed where he was quickly snatched by the other boy, being taken into his arms like a favourite teddy bear.

It was then that Tim noticed that tears were streaming down his face.

"It's going to be all right Tim." He heard a voice say, but Tim was so focused on the doctors and nurses that he couldn't tell where it was coming from. It was as if his sense of time had slowed to a halt; nothing mattered apart from what was going on a few rooms down in the intensive care unit.

His heart felt like it was ready to burst out of his chest, it was beating so loudly; Tim couldn't imagine a world without his father in it.

He hadn't been able to imagine a world without his mother either.

"Jason you need to hold him, I'm going to go and get a sedative from the car."

Tim faintly realised he was shaking, though, it didn't feel like him; he was having some sort of outer body experience, like this was all happening to some other Tim in some other life, that he was just dreaming and his parents were home safe in their bed and they were going to wake him up in the morning and then Mrs Mack would be up and helping them with making breakfast and everything would be good — everything would be normal.

But this wasn't some dream turned nightmare, this was as real as reality could be, and he hated every minute of it. Tim no longer had a perception of time. One moment Bruce was hightailing it out of the room, the next he was back with a syringe. Then suddenly he was sitting net to the bed, a large corse hand running through Tim's hair, soothing words falling from his mouth.

Jason's arms tightened round him.

The syringe lay empty on the bedside table.

And Tim knew no more.

-

Jack Drake made it through his code blue, the doctors and nurses were able to re-inflate his collapsed lung, but the pneumonia he had caught was just getting worse, he was deteriorating and the numerous courses of antibiotics hadn't done anything to help.

Jack Drake was dying, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

And someone had to break that news to his son.

-

Bruce was weary of his trip to room 416. Jack Drake had been a long term business partner and friend, it was disconcerting, to say the least, to see him in such a condition. (He couldn't imagine what it was like for Tim to see his father slowly fade away.) Bruce didn't even know if his friend was going to be awake.

But when he did finally rustled up the courage to enter the small, but private, hospital room Bruce found Jack awake, alert and harshly breathing. Every inhale looked painful as the lightening quick rise and fall of his chest caused a wince on the man's face.

A wince that turned into a half smile at Bruce's entrance.

"Bruce," Jack's voice was quite and gravelly "I hear I have you to thank for my safe return to the States."

Bruce smiled sadly back at him, remembering the cover story they had come up with,

"I merely raised the alarm when I was worried that you hadn't returned in time, I hear our boys in blue worked with the military and our embassy in Cuba, along with officials there to get you back on US soil. Call it a joint effort."

Jack started to laugh, which soon turned into a cough and Bruce handed the glass of water on his bedside table to try to ease the fit as well as a tissue to catch the mucus he coughed up.

"You were always a funny one Bruce. Sorry if I'm not very talkative; it only hurts when I breathe."

"Of course Jack, save your strength. I just came to see how you are and to see if there was anything I could do."

Jack looked distraught. His eyes glassing over with unshed tears and his face contouring into a look of regret.

"My son, Timothy. He's all I have Bruce, you have to promise me you'll look after him, after I'm — after."

Bruce nodded, the words catching in his throat for a moment. "Of course Jack. I'll make sure he has everything he needs, he'll be well looked after."

"G'd. G'd. Tha's g'd." Jack drawled.

Bruce smiled and grasped Jack's hand as the man slowly drifted off to sleep, he needed to get back to the boys, Tim needed to know that his dad made it though.

-

He didn't want to wake up, Tim didn't quite know why, but waking up made butterflies flutter in his stomach. He was quite enjoying his dream world of endlessly swing from one skyscraper to the next, where windows were made of chocolate and clouds were delicious fluffy candy floss. His dreams were weird. Geeze.

But the though of waking up made him sick to his stomach, made it rain, and made the buildings collapse under an invisible weight. Something was pulling him back into the land of consciousness, somewhere he don't want to go, but somewhere he needed to be.

The lights in the room were bright, almost blinding, the white everything didn't help.

White everything.

Hospital.

Dad!

Tim woke with a start, sitting up sharply, searching the room frantically. Bruce was sitting in the chair next to the bed as though he'd only been out for five minutes, but it was dark outside and there were empty dinner trays waiting to be collected on the table to the side of the room.

"Bruce," he started, afraid. "My dad?"

"He made it through Tim," Bruce clutched his hand tightly, stroking it with his thumb, "but we need to prepare for the worst. The doctors aren't giving him a lot of time."

Tears ran down Tim's face. His dad's dying. Oh God, his dad's dying and all he can do is watch.

He started sobbing uncontrollably as Bruce smothered him in a hug.

-

"Hey Sport. 'M not doing too great, am I?" His dad coughed. Harsh and wet, his chest rattling as he wheezed a deep breath back in.

He looked like death, pale faced and thinner than Tim had ever seen him. The skin of his face was drawn over his bones like cling film.

It made Tim sick with worry and the realisation that they didn't have much time left.

"You — You're going to be just fine. You're awake now. That means you're gonna get better right?"

His father's smile was sad. It was as though he could tell that his body wasn't fighting back. That the infection, caused from the poison weakening his immune system, was taking over and there was nothing his body could do to stop it.

There was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

"Yeah kid. I'm gonna be just fine." He weakly reached for Tim's hand knowing Tim could tell he was lying. Tim bypassed the hand and went straight for a hug, holding on as though his life depended on it.

"I love you dad." Tim whispered, the words catching in his throat. If he only had a little time left with his dad then he may as well make it count.

"I love you too Timothy, so much more than you could ever imagine."

Tim spent the next three days camped out in his dad's hospital room. All the nurses knew what was going on, knew the inevitable was coming and just left him too it; bringing up two meals at meal times, extra blankets and pillows. But largely they just left the two to their privacy.

-

No one talked about the boy who was about to become an orphan, a quick exchange of glances as they passed the room told a thousand words. The picture of the boy, too small for his age, world be forever ingrained on their minds as Jack Drake slowly deteriorated.

No one dared tell the little Timothy to leave. Usually there was someone with him, even Bruce Wayne had been seen a couple of times, which was good. The boy needed support, love and comfort. Especially when his father was awake less and less, and when he was awake he didn't have the strength to talk.

So Timothy did.

He talked about his time when Jack last went abroad. The expansive Wayne Manor grounds, a boy named Jason and one named Dick. Really? What had the poor soul done to receive a nickname like Dick in this day and age?

Jack just smiled, nodded and hummed. At every point he could he would tell his son just how much he loved him and the boy would never fail to return the gesture. Just in case.

-

"I'm sorry you never got to meet him properly Dad, Alfred's amazing. You would love him." Tim smiled, he had almost finished recounting his whole life for his dad. It was nice, reminiscing about old times, telling each other how much they loved each other.

"Not as much as I love you buddy." His dad's voice was barely a whisper, but it was still there. His dad was still there.

"Love you more."

His dad smiled weakly, tears started forming in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Timothy."

Tim's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't ready for this (he would never be ready for this), he could feel tears start prickling behind his own eyes.

"Dad, you have nothing to be sorry for." It came out as a sob more than a formed sentence, but Tim didn't care as he almost flung himself over his dad to be as close to him as possible.

"But I do. I'm sorry that I'll never get to see you graduate, never get to see you leave for college, get you degree. Fall in love." He coughed. "I'm sorry I'll never get to be the best grandpa in the world."

He breathed in deeply, wheezing as he struggled through his speech. "I'm so sorry we weren't there for you more. We missed… I missed so much of your life Timmy… I — I'm just so sorry I wasn't a better dad."

"No. Daddy! No no no no nonono.

"You were the best dad I could ever have had."

"I love you son." It was almost inaudible, but even against the monotone beep of the heart rate monitor Tim heard it would and clear. His breath was knocked out of him in shock and he suddenly lost his ability to cry. Everything passed in a blur, he couldn't figure out who was who or what was going on. There was nothing but silence. And the beep.

The beep that told him that his father was dead, the beep that changed his life forever.

At some point someone dragged Tim away from his father, he didn't know if it had been seconds or hours, but he did remember kicking and screaming. Begging them to let him go. To put him down. To please not take his father from him.

But the man wrapped him in a hug and a blanket; soothing him with melodic words that his brain just wouldn't process.

And now he just couldn't stop crying.

It wasn't fair.

-

"I love you too dad."

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the huge break in my writing, I can't completely promise that I'll be updating things regularly, but they'll be more often.
> 
> Thank-you so much for persevering with me, I can't tell you how much that means to me.
> 
> ~Nova.
> 
> I have a Tumblr if you’re interested.  
> I'm just going to put this here.


End file.
